Heartless
by magistrate
Summary: Quite some time after Ultimecia's defeat, everything is normal. And if you believe that, you'll believe anything.
1. Of Funny Hats and Masamunes

**Disclaimer:**  
_I do not own the copyright to Final Fantasy VIII, or any of its characters. If I did, Rinoa would have died circa Disc II. Any resemblance to persons either living or dead are either coincidental or not. I'm not making any money off of this fanfic, so you shouldn't be either. What I didn't borrow, I made up--therefore it is MINE; and while you probably don't want to steal my characters anyway, you shouldn't even if you do happen to want to. The opinions expressed in this work are those of the characters, and not of Al Gore. I am not responsible for any incidental, consequential, or subsequential damages arising from the viewing of this document. By reading this disclaimer you agree to do whatever I say for the next twelve (12) hours. If you are reading this, I made you look.  
  
So HA!_  
  
  
  
  
__--=_Heartless_=--__  
  
_The sword melts by fire;  
To return to water.  
The beast of air  
Lies imprisoned in the earth.  
The touch of a whip  
Or the strike of a sword  
Howls in the great beyond.  
Then,  
The lord of the air  
Rises into the stars...._  


  
**T**he door split evenly in half lengthwise, hinges groaning their protest as they twisted and snapped. The boy--a youth no older than fourteen--cowered in the corner, his only weapon a decorative hunting knife clutched numbly in one hand.  
  
Hair like shined ebony. Silken clothing that gave the impression of shadow and wings. A black sword, a masamune a meter and a half land, held expertly in one hand. Yes--this was the face of his nightmares, shown on the evening news crime report over and over again; this was the face that had ushered so many into the depths of the afterlife.  
  
He clutched the knife in one hand, aware of how puny it seemed when compared to the masamune. Pressing himself up against the wall, he watched in silent terror as the apparition approached.  
  
Movement like wind. Eyes like stars. So very beautiful. So very hypnotizing; alluring, enchanting--  
  
The sword arced through the air, singing as it sought his heart. An instant before oblivion, he could hear a soft, feminine voice:  
  
"_I'm sorry_...."  
  


~  


  
The mere idea that Irvine Kinneas would pass up a chance to show off his talents was preposterous. It seemed that showing off was bred into the sharpshooter as naturally as breathing was bred into other organisms--so much so, in fact, that Irvine passing up the chance to display his skills was commonly thought of as a symptom of either illness or impending disaster.  
  
This considered, it came as no surprise when the SeeD-in-training's name came up for the Range Attacks Tournament in the Acauld plains. He showed up on the strip promptly, wearing his traditional tan trenchcoat over his SeeD jacket and setting his hat to a rakish angle. Taking his spot next to Nida, he glanced at the SeeD's collection of throwing knives.  
  
"You think you can actually outshoot me with those?" he asked, grinning.  
  
Nida raised an eye at him, keeping his distaste for the sharpshooter well concealed. "Would I be here otherwise?" he asked.  
  
Irvine shrugged. "I guess not,' he said. "Still, throwing knives can't possible get either the range or precision of a good rifle. Can they?"  
  
Nida shrugged. "A sharpshooter who uses a shotgun can't be nearly as accustomed to aiming as someone who uses throwing knives every day. Could they?"  
  
Irvine colored and turned away.  
  
The instructor stepped up to the podium, flipping through the papers on her clipboard. "Aler... Jono Aler, SeeD ID 41858. You're up."  
  
Irvine nodded to the instructor, a lithe young woman with a close-cropped fuzz of red hair. "Real cutie." he said. "What's her name?"  
  
"Instructor Dane Sierra," Nida responded, "and you _never_ want to call her a cutie to her face. The last one who did ended up in the infirmary."  
  
"She assigned him to help Dr. Kadowaki?" Irvine asked. Nida stared at him for a moment.  
  
"No," he said. "She broke his jaw."  
  
Irvine attempted to cough demurely and quickly averted his eyes. Jono was sighting down a long crossbow, aiming at a swinging target some distance away. The collective breath of the spectators was caught as he let the bolt fly, grazing the bottom edge of the target. Instructor Sierra marked something down on her clipboard.  
  
"Aziel--Richhen Aziel, SeeD ID 41419."  
  
"How 'bout we engage in a friendly little bet?" Irvine asked. "If I get a higher score than you, you have to ask Quistis out on a date. If you get a higher score... name your price."  
  
Nida thought for a moment. "If I win, I get your hat for a week."  
  
"...my hat?" Irvine asked hesitantly.  
  
Nida was warming to the topic. "And you get to wear a different one," he said. "A yellow one. Made of chocobo feathers."  
  
"For a week?"  
  
"A week."  
  
A gun went off in the background. "Emann. Kristen Emann, SeeD ID 50014-C."  
  
Nida smiled sardonically. "Don't tell me that you're getting nervous."  
  
"Me? Never been better."  
  
Nida stuck out his hand, and Irvine took it. "Jisel. Namo Jisel, SeeD ID 41276," called Sierra. Nida looked at the group of SeeDs waiting their turn.  
  
"You'll be up soon," Nida said.  
  
"Yeah. Out of curiosity, what's _your _last name?"  
  
"Nida," Nida replied.  
  
Irvine was confused. "Er... isn't that your _first _name?"  
  
"Yeah. So?"  
  
"Nida Nida?"  
  
"I only have one name," Nida corrected. "Where I come from, we don't _need_ two of them. Not like you Western countries--so backwards you need ridiculous amounts of beurocracy just to figure out who you are."  
  
"Oh," Irvine said.  
  
There was a long silence.  
  
"Kinneas. Irvine Kinneas, SeeD ID 50332-C."  
  
"Good luck," Nida said. Irvine flashed him a grin and tilted his hat.  
  
Stepping up to the line, Irvine raised his rifle with a flourish. Closing one eye, he sighted along the length of the barrel. Giving himself a moment to get used to the swing of the target, he gauged the distance. Making the last few adjustments, he exhaled and squeezed the trigger.  
  
The bullet flew through the air, biting into the second-to-middle ring on the target. Sierra noted something down, and waved him off. "Nida. Nida, SeeD ID 41268."  
  
"Good shot," Nida acknowledged as he passed Irvine.  
  
Irvine smiled. "About that date with Quistis?" he said.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I hear she likes petunias."  
  
Nida raised an eyebrow, and moved up to the line.  
  
Taking one of his throwing knives, he watched the target for a moment. Closing his eyes, he turned his back to it.  
  
With a burst of all the energy he had, he whirled on his heel. The aiming, the step forward and the release of the knife were all one motion--the knife seemed to bury itself near the dead center of the target before it had even left his hand.  
  
Sierra noted something down and called for the next student. Nida walked back to stand by Irvine. "About those petunias?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah?" Irvine asked dumbly.  
  
"You can give them to her yourself."  
  
Extending a hand, Nida waited as Irvine pulled off his hat and handed it to him with a certain amount of ill grace. Nida took it, tucking it under his arm.  
  
"How did you do that?" Irvine demanded.  
  
"I'll explain later," Nida said. "_You _need to go get yourself a new hat."  
  
"I hate you," Irvine said.  
  
"Great sportsmanship, pal."  
  
Irvine was about to retort, but was interrupted as Xu ran up. Putting on his best Ladies' Man face, he reached up to tip his hat--only to halt halfway and turn it into a rather awkward SeeD salute. "Do you need some help, ma'am?"  
  
Xu looked him over. "You look different," she said.  
  
"He lost his hat in a bet," Nida explained. Irvine winced.  
  
"Ah," Xu said. "Do you know where I can find Selphie? Or Squall?"  
  
"Probably not together," Nida answered unhelpfully.  
  
"I think Sefie's in the Quad," Irvine said. "She said the wanted to think about the Garden Festival."  
  
"Thank you," Xu said, turning to leave.  
  
"Hey, wait!" Nida said. "What's going on?"  
  
Xu turned halfway and opened her mouth to respond, then looked at Irvine again. "...you'd be better off not knowing," she said.  
  
Nida and Irvine exchanged glances. "Not good," Nida summed up.  
  
"How do you know?" Irvine asked. "Maybe she wants to... to get help to plan a party for us. Or something." It was a lame idea, and he knew it.  
  
"Yeah... ask the Living Dead to plan a party. Let's see, what would come of that...?" Planting a hand on his hip, Nida adopted a scowl and gave a flat "Whatever" that sounded as if it had come from Squall's own mouth. Irvine couldn't help chuckling.  
  
"Right. So what do _you_ think it was?"  
  
Nida shrugged. "I have a feeling we'll be finding out soon enough," he said as Sierra called "all participating SeeDs" up for rewards.


	2. A Letter For Seifer

What really woke him up was the sudden shadow that fell across his face.  
  
Sitting up with a shock, Seifer realized that he must have been asleep for hours. The tide was coming in, and had already flooded his boots and soaked his pants to the skin. It was tugging at his trenchcoat--tattered and ragged from heavy use--and was lapping at his armpits. Had Fujin not decided to check on him, he probably would have stayed asleep until he either drowned or was washed out to sea--in which case he'd either wake up in Hell or the watery depths, neither of which options sounded particularly inviting.  
  
"UP," Fujin said imperiously.  
  
Seifer stood up, feeling the sandy coat weigh heavily on him. He was well aware that as he was--soaking wet and covered with sand and salt, not to mention dripping and sloshing when he moved--he didn't exactly command respect. "Where's Raijin?" he asked, hoping that his larger compatriot wouldn't be around to see him like this.  
  
"BALAMB." That's what he loved about Fujin--quick, short answers, concise and to the point. It really was a marvelous gift--especially when your other choice for companionship was the chatterbox Raijin, who in all honesty had the tact of a subaverage rock.  
  
"Oh." Trying largely without success to brush himself off, Seifer grimaced. "So what's the plan for today?" he asked.  
  
"NONE."  
  
_Should have expected that, _he thought. "All right. What do _you _want to do?"  
  
"APATHY."  
  
Seifer shook his head. "All right, then," he said. _Going to be another lazy day._  
  
Fujin turned, stalking some distance away. Staring out into the water, her features arranged into a fierce scowl. "...MESSAGE," she said at length.  
  
"What? For me?"  
  
"AFFIRMATIVE."  
  
Seifer was confused. To the best of his knowledge, no one knew that he had taken up residence in Balamb. "Who's it from?"  
  
"ANONYMOUS," Fujin growled. Seifer shook his head.  
  
"Who wants to write a letter to _me?_"  
  
Fujin's eye narrowed, and slowly Seifer got the point.  
  
"Okay, okay. I'll come back and read it."  
  
"BETTER."  
  
Turning on her heel, Fujin stalked back toward Balamb and trusted Seifer to follow her. Leading the way through the small town's few back alleys, she came to the smallish house that Seifer had obtained for them with the remnants of his Knight's riches. Raijin was nowhere to be seen, and the only thing amiss was the envelope on the otherwise bare table. It was making quite a dent in the layer of dust that had accumulated.  
  
Picking up the envelope, Seifer turned it over in his hands. There was his name and address, neatly printed in small but unfamiliar handwriting, and nothing else. Seifer glanced at Fujin, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Turning back to the letter, he tore open the envelope.  
  
The letter he retrieved was folded neatly into thirds, warped by the former dampness of glue. The text itself was the stereotypical ransom-note style; letters and sometimes entire words cut out and pasted on:  
  
**w**E _know_ wH_O_ yo**u** A**_re..._** _n_0 MORE g_l**OR**_****Y?  
p**l**_ea_S**e**..._!_  
  
"Fujin...?" Seifer asked, holding out the letter to her. The albino took it, looking over it critically.  
  
"TRASH," she proclaimed.  
  
Seifer shrugged. "Some prank the Balamb kids are playing?" he asked.  
  
In response, Fujin took the envelope and held it up. In the upper-right corner, where the Paid Postage mark should have been, there was a smallish icon stamped in green ink. It read _Nicha Pala Estharreni_, and was surrounded by a faded-out Esthar logo.  
  
"Esthar?" Seifer asked. "Who wants to send me letters from _Esthar?_"  
  
Fujin shook her head. "MYSTERY," she said.  
  
"Yeah." Seifer tossed the letter back onto the table. "Well, I'm sure as hell not going to figure it out. Hey, if any more of these weird letters come, feel free to read them before you drag me in. Okay?"  
  
Fujin nodded curtly. "AFFIRMATIVE."  
  
"Fuj?"  
  
Fujin's eyebrow jumped again, but she said nothing.  
  
"Can I ask you something?"  
  
"ACCEPTABLE."  
  
"You _can speak_ normally, right?"  
  
Fujin nodded, very cautiously.  
  
"Then why don't you, ever?"  
  
Fujin's eye narrowed instantly. "REASONS!" she snapped, and stalked out the door.  
  
_Great,_ Seifer wondered. _What did I do this time?_  



	3. Training?

"Ke!"  
  
_Three steps to the right, feint, duck, lunge! Slice! Parry to the right and down, trap the blade... left foot forward, right foot forward, spin on left foot, free the blade and _swing_...._  
  
"Ke!"  
  
The training was hard, and what felt like gallons of sweat trickled down her face. Feet balancing lightly on the pad of Float magic below her, she slowly fought her way back towards the shore. The Float was losing strength--soon, it would run out. And she was _still_ fifteen exercises and at least twenty meters away from the bank.  
  
_Plant foot, feint, parry upward to disarm, spin on right foot, swing with left foot, trip, stab!_  
  
"Ke!"  
  
Another move successfully executed. Fourteen exercises and twenty meters to go.  
  
It was getting on near dawn--someone was bound to come by and wonder what someone of her age was doing practicing swordsmanship in the middle of a lake soon. The sun was about to break over the horizon, and it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day--  
  
_...duck, roll, bring weapon up to bear, lunge--  
  
--trip--_  
  
"Ke--_nooo!"_  
  
Tumbling forward, she barely managed to catch herself in time. The sparkling-clear water was centimeters away from her face, and she thought that she could see all the way to the bottom of the lake from here.  
  
Damn.  
  
"I am sorry, _Gami-ke,_" she whispered into the water. "I will try to train harder."  
  
Standing up, she steeled her resolve and strode back out to the middle of the lake. Thirty-three exercises and thirty meters to go--and her Float was running out.  
  
It just wasn't worth it some days.  
  


~  


  
"You aren't serious."  
  
Xu leaned back, enjoying the look on the younger SeeD's face. "On the contrary," she responded. "I am _very _serious. It's been too long since you've been out on assignment, and Garden needs a boost in enrollment. Therefore, you are the natural choice for a mission like this one. Esthar will popularize it to no end."  
  
Squall's face disappeared behind a black-gloved hand that took it upon itself to attach itself to his forehead. "Why not a normal mission?" he asked.  
  
"According to Cid, you have a certain style that prospective SeeDs would find very glamorous. In addition, we're certain that you can carry this mission through. You're one of the best combat SeeDs we have, and this is a tough assignment. You can win it, giving SeeDs everywhere a better reputation."  
  
"You're not serious."  
  
"I think we've been over that possibility before," Xu said.  
  
Squall groaned.  
  
Xu pushed a stack of papers at him. "Here's the full crime reports, as well as information on the other details of the mission. Your team will consist of you, Selphie Tilmitt, and Rach Nives. Oh, and you'll be taking a cadet with you--think of it as a prerequisite for his Exam. That cadet would be..." Xu shuffled through her papers, and smiled. "Irvine Kinneas."  
  
"You _cannot be_--"  
  
"Oh, but I am." Xu smiled sweetly. "You'll leave today from Balamb Harbor at nineteen hundred, and arrive in Jacce Harbor within fifty-six hours."  
  
"Fi--fifty-six?" Squall asked, doing a mental double-take at the number. His face must have registered a certain amount of surprise, because Xu started to laugh.  
  
"Fifty-six," she confirmed. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure your companions will liven things up."  
  
Squall felt, but did not show, a sick pang of absolute horror.  
  
"I'll make sure your cabin is equipped with a supply of Sleep spells," Xu said merrily. "Whether you use them or yourself or others, I'll leave up to you."  
  
Standing, Xu made her way out of the cafeteria. Squall stared at the pile of papers in front of him, gingerly picking one up.  
  
Before he could begin to read, a rather sullen Irvine appeared at the table. "They said I was supposed to see you," he grumbled.  
  
Squall looked up--and did a _real _double-take. Irvine was wearing, instead of his normal hat, the most patently _ridiculous _thing Squall had ever seen in his entire life--a hat made exclusively out of bright yellow feathers, with an abnormally large one sticking out at a jaunty angle. Resisting the urge to Firaga the thing, he forced himself to calmly say "Irvine?"  
  
"This had better not be about the hat," Irvine warned.  
  
Squall bit off the rest of his question.  
  
Irvine tapped the papers. "Am I getting assigned or something?"  
  
"This evening we're leaving for Esthar," Squall said. We're on assignment."  
  
"Great! What do we do?"  
  
"I haven't had time to read the briefing," Squall answered. "We'll figure it out on the way."  
  
"Er... so I guess we'll be on with the bulk of the mission _before_ a week is up?"  
  
"I would guess so," Squall responded acidly.  
  
"I hope it's not going to be anything too publicized," Irvine remarked.  
  
"As a matter of fact, it's a recruiting campaign," Squall said.  
  
Irvine's hand moved up to rub the side of his hat. "_Damn,_" was all he could say.


	4. Pride and Prejudice

"Trepe? You can't expect anyone to fall in love with _her._ I mean, she's pretty enough, but... Hyne, she is so _pathetic."_  
  
Quistis almost dropped the book she was selecting. The voice on the other side of the Library bookcase was easily identifiable--Bendon, whom most of the Garden knew simply as "That Arrogant SeeD." He was obviously unaware of her presence, but... _ouch_.  
  
"I dunno," answered another voice--a female. "She does have that scary fan club."  
  
"Oh, you mean the _Trepies,_the only group in Garden more pathetic than her. Don't you get it? They're all losers who look to her as _Queen _loser. You think that any of them have the brains to look past her pretty exterior, anyway?"  
  
"She's smart, at least."  
  
"Smart? Ye Gods, I used to have her as an _instructor_. Let me tell you, if that's _smart _I'll eat my brains. There's a reason she got fired."  
  
A small, vengeful part of Quistis urged her to step out from behind the bookcase and give Bendon a good tongue-lashing, but the more powerful part--the one that insisted she stay and listen--won out.  
  
"She does have _some _friends, I know," responded the girl.  
  
"Oh, yeah? Like who?"  
  
"Well...." there was a pause. "Commander Leonhart, for one."  
  
"The icecube? Sure, and I have a pet Hexadragon named Fufu. Leonhart doesn't have any friends."  
  
There was a sigh and Quistis slid weakly to the ground, her ego somewhere in the back of her mind, traumatized. "So I guess you don't want to ask her out?" asked the girl.  
  
"I... _what?_" Bendon sounded surprised. "Why in hell would you think that I wanted to do _that_?"  
  
"Irvine is trying to set her up," the girl responded. "He says that she _really_ needs a date."  
  
"Ha! That's funny," Bendon retorted. "Look, I don't date _losers._ Go ask one of her fan club."  
  
There were the sounds of footsteps receding, and a long sigh. Then, a lighter pair of footsteps moved off.  
  
Quistis was left on the floor, leaning against a potted plant with the a copy of Pre-Centran Faith and Fanaticism gripped numbly in her hands. This was certainly one of the worse ways to spend an afternoon--to have what could be the opinion of the majority thrown in her face like a bucket of cold water.  
  
_Does... does everyone think like that? _she couldn't help but wonder. _Am I really that... pathetic?_  
  
At once, the gears in her mind set to work picking apart every piece of social interaction she had gone through in the past week or so, analyzing even the tiniest details and usually blowing them out of all proportion. It wasn't her fault that she was a tad suggestible--if Bendon had proclaimed her a goddess, she might have walked around with her head in the clouds for weeks.  
  
Had she been in any reasonable state of mind, she would have remembered that Bendon wasn't exactly the most reputable source for this kind of information. As it was, she had been pushed into self-critical mode: she would continue like this until she either reassured herself that she _wasn't _a complete social failure or, the more probable option, she convinced herself that she _was_.  
  
Quite some time passed, Quistis completely oblivious to it. She could hear laughter approaching from the entrance to the Library, and hoped beyond hope that it wasn't Bendon or anyone else who would come and make her feel worse.  
  
In the corner of her peripheral vision, Xu and Kadowaki appeared. There were in the middle of a conversation, but stopped as the saw her.  
  
"Quisty?" Xu asked, surprised. "Are you all right? You look like you're caught in headlights."  
  
Quistis looked up, the face and the voice seeming too disconnected from her reality to impact her. She gaped.  
  
"Quitsy," Xu said, kneeling down and putting a hand on her friends arm. "What's wrong?"  
  
The concept of _friend_ pierced Quistis's self-imposed cloud of gloom like a spear. With a small whimper, she toppled forward into her friend's arms.


	5. Imperfect Murder

A slender, artistic finger traced its way along the road map of SubEsthar District 17. Bathed in the lurid red light that filtered through the Skyway up above, the girl shivered in the morning air.  
  
"Take Ba-17 street to Ein-17 street, take Ein-17 Street to Ze-17 street...."  
  
The Districts of SubEsthar were much more orderly than the sprawl of Esthar Proper hundreds of meters above, but navigating them was still nightmarish. Even with the neat grid pattern, the lack of any real landmarks annoyed most people to no end.  
  
"...and go through Ze-Ein-SubDistrict-Street 1-Lat until you find apartment complex Einze-SD-st1Lat-47-RES." She thought about that for a moment. "Whatever Esthar beurocrat made up these names needs to be shot in the foot."  
  
Rolling the map back up, she tried to go over it in her head. It wasn't easy.  
  
"Take Ba-17 to Du-17... or was that Cua-17? Um.. take _Ba-17_ to get to _Ve-17_ by way of _Ein-17_... or was that... oh, dammitall!"  
  
Throwing the map down onto the pavement, she readjusted the sheath on her back and wrapped the scarf around her so as to keep her nose warm and obscure her face. She would find the place by finding a guide and asking directions, if that was what she needed to do.  
  
Murder was never a perfect business, anyway.  
  


~  


  
"She's a _murderer?"_  
  
The one called Rach was whining again. One wondered why anyone sane would want him on a recruiting drive.  
  
"Our mission is to find her and bring her to justice," Squall said flatly. "She's already killed two of Esthar's low-ranking officials, and a number of civilians. Her motives are unknown, but she's considered to be one of the Empire Nation's biggest threats ever. We've been warned not to put anything past her."  
  
"Why can't the Esthar police handle this?" Irvine asked.  
  
"She's believed to have killed the entire task force they sent after her," Squall answered. "They disappeared, and Esthar doesn't want to sacrifice any more. They state their full confidence in our abilities."  
  
"I don't fight girls," Rach protested.  
  
"How'd you get into _SeeD?" _Selphie asked incredulously.  
  
"We'll fight her, or we'll be assigned to Esthar permanently," Squall said. Rach rolled his eyes.  
  
"So how are we supposed to _find _this... criminal?" Irvine asked.  
  
Squall cued up a map on the transport's holoscreen. "She's been sighted moving back and forth from Lake Ock to SubEsthar. We're to--"  
  
Squall was cut off by the sound of Selphie bursting into laughter. "Lake _Ock_? They actually _named _it that?"  
  
"Yes. Now--"  
  
"What's SubEsthar?"  
  
Squall stared at Irvine. "Esthar is divided into two sections, Esthar Proper and SubEsthar. Esthar Proper is a raised city--we saw it when we visited the Presidential Palace and Dr. Odine's lab--and SubEsthar is built on the ground below it. We can intercept our target between Lake Ock--"  
  
--Selphie doubled up on the floor, consumed by mirth--  
  
"--and SubEsthar. SeeD Tilmitt?"  
  
Selphie shook her head. "Don't--" (laughter) "--call me that."  
  
"So we just find her and kill her, right?" Rach asked.  
  
"Essentially--"  
  
"But what if she's really that big of a deal? If she took out an EPD task force, then...."  
  
"The Estharan Police Department isn't used to handling things like paramagic. If--"  
  
"But don't you have to have a GF to use paramagic? Does that mean she has a GF?"  
  
Squall looked back at Irvine. "No..." he said. "Galbadia doesn't use GFs in their army, and they--"  
  
"They _don't?"_  
  
Squall was getting rather irritated at not being able to finish a sentence, and decided to not answer.  
  
"Man, are you clueless," Rach complained to Irvine. "I mean, you could be dressed up as a clue and sitting in the middle of a clue field drenched in clue pheremones in the middle of clue mating season and _still_ not get a clue."  
  
"What?" The full insult was lost on Irvine, but not the fact that it was an insult. "Hey!"  
  
"SeeD Nives," Squall snapped. Rach ignored him.  
  
"Man, I thought you grew _up _in Galbadia. And you didn't know _that?"_  
  
"That's not very nice," Selphie said, pulling herself up onto the bench again.  
  
Squall surveyed the room. "......."  
  
"_I _knew that, and I'm from _Winhill._ I mean, that's like the backwater of the backwater. What's your excuse?"  
  
Squall gave up. Turning, he withdrew into the cabin area and locked the door. Accessing the paramagic bank that stored his GFs for the time being, he was both surprised and relieved to find a bank of Sleep spells--just as Xu had promised.  
  
He counted them. Thirty-six.  
  
He doubted it would be enough.  



	6. Nonsubtle Messages

"Fuj? Come on, Fuj! He didn't _mean _it, ya know?"  
  
Fujin whirled on her compatriot. "QUIET," she growled at him. Raijin hopskipped backwards, hoping to avoid the kick, but it caught him in the shin anyway. He bit his lip, trying to remind himself to buy shinguards one of these days.  
  
"He's just curious!" Raijin protested, still drying to defend his friend. "It's not like he's not our friend, ya know! Maybe we _should_ tell him--"  
  
Fujin's glare immediately got uglier than it had been. "_NEGATIVE_!" she snapped, with a bit _more_ vehemence than normal.  
  
"But--"  
  
"**NEGATIVE**." If anyone had ever said Fujin lacked conviction, they would have had to eat their words many times over. Raijin decided that he had better not press his luck.  
  
Besides, Fujin was reaching for her shuriken....  
  
"Hey! I have an idea! Let's go see if Seifer got any more of those funny letters!" Raijin suggested a bit too enthusiastically.  
  
Fujin thought for a moment. "RUN," she commanded.  
  
Raijin _ran_. He ran like he had never run before--except for the _other_ times Fujin wound up chasing him like this. In fact, he had run all the way to the Balamb Post Office before he knew what hit him--or rather, what _failed_ to hit him.  
  
Doubling over in front of the door, he saw Fujin jogging up from one side. "Whoo!" he exclaimed. "You... want to do... the honors?" he asked, motioning to the door.  
  
Fujin glared at him, and stepped inside. Raijin followed her, leaning against a wall as she approached the junior worker there.  
  
"ALMASY," she snapped.  
  
"Okay, okay!" the young man jumped, and hurried into the back room. Raijin shook his head.  
  
"You just keep scaring people if you talk like that, ya know," he advised.  
  
Fujin ignored him. Raijin was glad.  
  
The junior officer came back, handing her an envelope. "This is the only one," he said.  
  
Fujin accepted it, and was ambushed halfway to the door by Raijin. "What's it say?" he asked.  
  
Fujin rolled her eye and opened the envelope. She withdrew a single piece of paper, containing only two cut-and-pasted words:  
  
S**e**_e_ y_0_**U_!_**  
  


~  


  
A trail of blood and clipped articles lead from the bedroom towards the front door, key letters missing from the largest headlines. She sat on the bed, staring at the trail with a mix of annoyance and resignation. Damn him for the thousandth time, she was _never_ going to get used to this. He was the most incompetent criminal ever--he left a paper trail both figuratively and literally that an idiot should have been able to follow--and yet he still got away from everyone, even her.  
  
Sighing, she picked up he articles to see what message he was sending this time.  
  
**Burglary in _nderwater Storag_ Facility 029**. Missing a U and an e.  
  
_Show Op_ning: 1_00 Miles of Blue, Laca Theatre, Esthar Proper_. Missing an e and a number.  
  
_enator Heni to speak on murder myster_. Missing an S and a y.  
  
She gave up before she even tried. Without that number, she was fairly certain that she'd never figure it out.  
  
There was a noise from outside, and she jumped. Dammit--the EPD was getting faster.  
  
"_Exe cu mani superi_!" they were yelling. _Come out with your hands up._ It was in Estharre, as if she couldn't handle Standard English. She bit her lip. She _really _didn't have to cut through _another _group of police.  
  
Groaning, she surveyed the options. They were coming in the front door now, or so it sounded. As far as escape went, that left the window or....  
  
Bracing her masamune, she stared at the wall. It was thin enough. Two cuts, and she could barrel through.  
  
_Some days I wonder about all this, _she thought ruefully. _Why do all of my jobs have to end up with dramatics...?_


	7. Salvete Means Hello!

"_Gaudo visre su!_ I am glad to see you!"  
  
Squall turned to see that he was being approached by an Esthar official; short, stocky, and grinning from ear to ear. Behind him was a man with a large shoulder-mounted camera, who was lugging a few large bags of equipment. Rach immediately sprinted to the latter man, and engaged him in some conversation.  
  
"_Scuale es? _You are Squall?_"_ The shorter official extended a hand warmly, which Squall took with reservation.  
  
"SeeD Squall Leonhart, reporting as ordered from Balamb," he answered formally. "Are you--" he searched his bran, "--Poji?"  
  
Poji nodded. "_Su._ I am. So, you are ready to begin the hunt?"  
  
Squall nodded. "As soon as possible." _The sooner we start, the sooner we can leave._  
  
Poji patted his forearm warmly. "_Abules mecu._ Walk with me. We will go the the place whereat you may find this.... this criminal."  
  
Squall nodded curtly, and Poji began to walk off. Pausing next to Rach and the camera-carryer, he smiled.  
  
"You are... _artes?_ The artistic one who will capture for us the film of how so great a criminal may be brought to justice?"  
  
Rach turned, and executed a neat SeeD salute. "That's me."  
  
_So that's why he came,_ Squall thought.  
  
"_Bene!_ Good. Good. Come with us."  
  
With a bit of goading, Poji managed to get everyone to move in the direction of a small bluff a bit inland from Jacce Harbor. As he walked, he attempted to narrate the dangers they would be facing when going up against this deadly, unidentified murderer. He seemed to exaggerate most of it, and Squall had almost toned him out when he found himself halted by a stubby finger at his chest.  
  
"_Audibene!_ Listen well!" Poji shook his head emphatically. "She is _nefaz_--Very Wrong indeed. She is _heartless,_ that one. Killed an old mammi's only nephew a bit ago. They found him with his hunting knife still in one hand! _Tristimi._ Very sad."  
  
"...I understand the danger she represents," Squall said.  
  
"_Ne!_ No, no, no. She is _very dangerous_. You should look out! One minute, you are well and fighting her, the next... _subito!_ Suddenly, you are dead." Poji illustrated this concept with a quick motion of his arm, then turned. Pointing at the horizon, he dropped his voice theatrically. "She comes from nowhere," he whispered. Widening his eyes, he gestured broadly across the plains. "You see only the open land. You hear only the wind. All is calm. All silent. Slowly--_lene_--you suspect there is something amiss. You turn, and before you know it...."  
  
Selphie was craning forward to hear the story. Predictable.  
  
"_Hocco!_" Poji hissed, clear sound cutting the air like a knife as his arm snapped around to point a few degrees more to the north. "She is here."  
  
The entire SeeD party turned to look as Poji pointed. There, sure enough, was a small black figure making its way across the landscape.  
  
"Cameras rolling," Poji said as he patted Squall on the back.  



	8. Instructors

(**Author's Note:**_  
Sorry 'bout this, but the Quistis angst is leading up to something in the coming chapters. I'd like to indulge all the Quistis fans and give her a break for humor, but I can't change the course of events that easily. I'll make it up to her... eventually... I promise....)_  


  
"Quistis, you can't _possibly_ expect to be able to take _Bendon Gansarro's_ word for anything of value! He's an emotional bully. Beating up people's feelings makes him feel cool. Didn't you even look at his profile when you had him in class?"  
  
Quistis stared at her hands, clasped in her lap, and tried to avoid looking up at Xu. She nodded mutely. "I.. I guess... you're right."  
  
"_Trust_ me, Quisty. I wouldn't lie to you. Why should I?"  
  
Quistis tried to smile. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm acting... I'm acting like a kid. I shouldn't be."  
  
"It's all right," Xu said, patting her on the shoulder. "There's no need to apologize."  
  
The clock on Quistis's dresser chimed, and Xu looked up.  
  
"I need to get back to the library," Quistis said. "Aki wanted me to find some books for her--I shouldn't keep her class waiting--"  
  
"I'll take care of it," Xu said, standing gracefully. "You should take a nap. You look worn out."  
  
"Thanks," Quistis responded. Xu shot her a caring smile, and turned to the door. As she stepped across the threshold, however, she was called back. "Xu?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Quistis hesitated. She'd never asked anyone this, but... this was her _friend._ If she couldn't trust Xu, who _could_ she trust?  
  
"Do you think... anyone could love me?"  
  
Xu seemed taken aback. "Quistis,' she said. "Don't worry about stuff like that. You have friends who care for you, deeply. That's all that matters."  
  
The door swished closed, but didn't close her question. Why hadn't Xu really answered?  
  
Was the answer... no?  
  


~  


  
He woke up with the feeling that he had either had a bad run-in with a Grat, or drunk a _really bad _bottle of Mimmet Red.  
  
Considering he was in the middle of the Training Center, Zell Dincht decided that it was the former.  
  
Standing up, he shook his head vigorously. There was an acid burn on his shoulder--he'd have to get that taken care of--and he had no idea what time it was. He had the feeling that he was supposed to have met Instructor Sierra for something....  
  
"For the final time, Dincht, if you're in here you'd better own up!" called a familiar voice, and Zell winced. Jogging over to the training center entrance, he pushed open the doors to see Sierra standing there, handy clipboard in hand. She was frowning, and he wondered if he should try to explain.  
  
"Sorry, sir," Zell said awkwardly.  
  
"You're thirteen minutes late, Dincht," Sierra growled. "You had better have an explanation."  
  
"I got Sleeped by a Grat, sir," Zell said. "I didn't wake up until a moment ago."  
  
"You have the Status-Junction ability, do you not?"  
  
Zell found something fascinating to stare at on Sierra's shoe. "Yes, I do, sir."  
  
"Next time you're in here, _use_ it. We have a job to do." Sierra turned on her heel and stalked away. Zell slumped, shook his head, and straightened up to follow her.  
  
"We're heading to Sych Vale ," Sierra informed him, snapping out every word in crisp military style. "We've had confirmed reports of a high-level GF in the area. Reports say hostile. In this mission I am only here for support--you are the leader, and I will follow your orders unless they seriously compromise our safety. If the mission is carried out to a suitably high standard, you'll be referred to the Instructor's Committee for further testing."  
  
"All right," Zell said.  
  
"And, SeeD Dincht," Sierra said.  
  
"S-sir?"  
  
"One of the marks of a _good_ instructor candidate is punctuality."  
  
Zell winced again.


	9. This Can't Be Right

"Irvine, circle around to the right and get ready for a snipe attack. Selphie, follow me. You're magical support."  
  
Squall was already moving forward as he issued the orders. Irvine was automatically adjusting his gun, and Selphie was rearranging her GFs. It was a well-choreographed sequence, having come from long periods of working together in and after the Ultimecia Campaign so long ago. Poji was grinning like an idiot.  
  
The figure had noticed them now, and was staring as if she was trying to decide whether or not they were coming for her. In a move as smooth as the moves of the SeeDs were practiced, she drew the giant sword that had been riding on her back. She didn't move from her spot by the bluffs, but the distance between the two sides seemed to close unnaturally quickly.  
  
"Are you the murderer?" Squall asked flatly, taking a good look at his opponent. She was wearing a black-silk scarf around the lower half of her face, and the rest of her clothing was composed of a slightly heavier white fabric. It was clearly not a dress, and the top clearly was not covered with a shawl, but it still managed to convey the flowing sense of a cloak and robe. She looked... almost ethereal.  
  
The girl met his eyes evenly, brown meeting blue. "That depends on what you mean by murder."  
  
Squall's eyes narrowed. "You're wanted on seven counts of murder," he said. "You've killed--" _what were those names...?_ "--Inspector Hakomi, Adjunct Galane, the brothers Naroko and Cimoko, the--"  
  
"Yes, yes, I get the idea," the girl sighed, breath ruffling the scarf over her mouth. "I suppose that would be me. Let me guess--you're the ones Esthar hired to kill me this time?"  
  
_...'this time...?'_  
  
"You could say that."  
  
"Right, then. But we'll play by my rules, or not at all. I can run very quickly."  
  
_Not if Irvine shoots you in the back._ "I don't think you're in a position to be making demands."  
  
The girl rolled her eyes. "And yet, _you're_ the one who hasn't attacked me yet. I think you want to hear me out, whether you admit it or no."  
  
Squall groaned inwardly. She had a point.  
  
"Look, I don't ask very much, and for someone of your... evident esteem, it should be nothing. I just want a fair fight. One on one, all or nothing. Or don't you think you can handle that?"  
  
Squall glared. how was he supposed to pass up a goad like that, especially if he was on camera? "Fine," he said. _One on one... I'm still sure of my odds. I've been _trained_ for this sort of thing._  
  
"All right," the girl said, stalking back to a point near the bluff. Fingering the leaves on a small sapling nearby, she glanced up at Squall. "I don't suppose you'd be kind enough to tell me where you're from?"  
  
"Balamb Garden," Squall said flatly, stepping into the circle defined by the shadow of the bluff and moving to his ready position. The girl raised both eyebrows in acknowledgement.  
  
"In that case, you can call me 'Amica,'" she said. "Not my real name, you understand, just a formality."  
  
Squall's eyes narrowed. He wanted to get this over with, not waste time in idle conversation. "Squall," he said flatly.  
  
She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. When she opened her eyes, they seemed quite a bit colder.  
  
"Attack," she said.  
  
Squall attacked.  
  
The first few moments were a simple exercise--a few simple moves so that he could get a feel for his opponent's style. It seemed that she was doing the same thing--lunges and parries, still reserved for the moment.  
  
Squall feinted in towards her side. She brought the masamune around to bear, and the battle began in earnest.  
  
The next moments were a flurry of swipes and ducks--too fast for the eyes, countered mainly by intuition and luck on each of their parts. 'Amica' was talented with the masamune--she used a style unlike any that he'd ever seen. The masamune never seemed to cease moving--even when recovering from an extension or a parry the blade moved smoothly, without the abrupt jerks he was used to. She was a bit slower than he was, but in terms of finesse she was the obvious superior.  
  
The tip of the blade ducked in close to his heart, and Squall parried it with the blunt end of his blade. It hummed around to strike at his leg, and he spun to one side to bring the blade in a vicious downward cut at her neck. She ducked into a ball, rolling forward and taking out one of his legs with a kick. He fell and rolled, getting to his feet just as she was--albeit, quite a bit away.  
  
Amica was watching him, ready. Squall knew that it would be better not to rush at a person who stood their ground--they usually had some tactic up their sleeve, and could easily respond to any attack that the aggressor made.  
  
_...however...._  
  
Amica had said one-on-one. She hadn't bothered to specify that there were rule further than that.  
  
Lowering his gunblade, he cast Aura on himself with a moment's concentration. A well-used Limit Break was often more dangerous than the strongest magic, and usually a good deal more difficult to block.  
  
Amica looked confused. That was good.  
  
Channelling the paramagic that the spell had given him, he charged. Amica brought her blade up to parry, but he swung before he was in any range to really hit her. The magical vacuum sucked her up into the sky, dragging Squall up as well.  
  
_Lionheart._  
  
Impossibly fast, Squall began the sequence of attacks. After the initial rush any enemy was disconcerted--the power behind the magic-fueled Limit couldn't be blocked by the strongest Protect, and the confused enemy couldn't focus enough to dodge. On any normal human, it would cut them to ribbons.  
  
There was a flicker of movement from his opponent, and Squall could have dropped the blade in shock.  
  
She had _parried_.  
  
His mind was sent reeling as he tried--unsuccessfully--to deliver the rest of the hits. No one could _parry_ the Lionheart attack! It went beyond human ability! The blade was too fast--the force was too directed. It would take a strike that was balanced _perfectly_ against the weight of the gunblade and the force of the blow. To even _hope_ to pull off something like that, one would need to either have practiced regularly against someone who used the Lionheart ability, or have used it yourself.  
  
Now, _that_ was a sobering thought.  
  
The magic was running out. He could feel himself falling and he could see her beginning to turn as the magic executed its final directives. He lost sight of her, hitting the ground lightly, and waited for his chance. She would land soon, and at that moment, she would be defenseless. A well-placed attack _then_, and--  
  
She landed. upright. That wasn't fair.  
  
With all the speed of a Hasted snake, Squall swung at her exposed side.  
  
The sapling behind her split in two, the top half falling gently to the ground.  
  
Squall blinked. For a moment his mind wrestled with the absurd possibility that she had turned into a tree, then--slowly--he looked up.  
  
The sight he saw in the clouds turned his heart to heavy stone.  
  


~  


  
Rinoa woke up slowly, with the feeling that it was going to be one of those days where absolutely nothing happened in Timber. She walked to the window. It was bright out. She closed it.  
  
Stumbling downstairs, she saw that the rest of the Forest Owls were asleep. Typical. Watts was sprawled across the couch, and Zone was sleeping in one of the larger chairs. She smiled. They had the right idea--it was far too pleasant a day to waste with activity.  
  
She went back upstairs and crawled back into bed. Within a few minutes she was asleep again, certain that all was right with the world.  
  


~  


  
Squall jumped back, taking in a sharp breath as the masamune buried half of its length in the ground near where he had been standing a moment earlier. Amica yanked the blade out of the earth before he had time to register what had happened.  
  
_A Jump attack,_ he recognized with shock. _I didn't know that anyone trained those anymore...._  
  
The miniscule pause was all that Amica needed to reclaim her weapon and strike again, and he barely had time to parry. The masamune's tip danced around the gunblade. The two weapons caught on each other, and a quick twist sent Squall's weapon spinning out of his grasp. Without thinking he dove after it--better to be moving, doing anything, then standing there without a weapon, defenseless.  
  
The flat of the masamune caught him three times--once across the jaw, once in the ribs, and once in the shin. His dive was turned into a painful roll, and his arm twisted underneath him. He landed on his back, and took a moment to try and catch his breath.  
  
The silhouette of his opponent came into sharp focus above him, and the tip or the masamune pointed directly at him. "All or nothing," Amica said. "It was a good match, but I still win."  
  
Moving to his side, sword still at the ready, Amica crouched down. Squall spent a moment trying to gauge his chances before realizing that he didn't have any.  
  
"Stay down if you want to live," Amica whispered softly. "Count slowly to a hundred before you stand."  
  
Squall redirected his mental energies to staring at her. She gave him what he could only assume was a smile.  
  
There was a flash of light, and she stood and brought the masamune down in a tight arc. The tip split the skin on the front of his neck evenly, drawing blood without inflicting a fatal wound. In the same motion, she turned and walked away.  
  
_...?_  
  
Squall swallowed. It was painful. He ran over the fight in his mind, closing his eyes. As far as he could tell, the entire sequence had been impossible.  
  
Someone was running to his side, and he identified Selphie by the vigor with which she was shaking him. He blocked her out.  
  
Something about the way she had attacked in the fight was nagging at the edge of his mind. He analyzed it.  
  
_"She's _heartless, _that one...."_  
  
All of her shots had been disarming shots. Even the Jump attack would have struck the gunblade instead of himself.  
  
_Oh, damn. What the hell does _that_ mean...?_  
  
  
Irvine dropped behind the rock he was using for cover, taking a deep breath and realizing that he he was beginning to sweat. He _hadn't_ just seen what he thought he had seen--he _had not_ just seen Squall about to be executed....  
  
There was a noise coming his way. Footsteps. He gripped his gun, trying to steel himself. He was a _SeeD cadet,_ after all--he could take the pressure....  
  
The girl walked past his position, and paused. Irvine stood, bringing the gun to bear at the side of her head. She was turned just enough to see him--  
  
There was a long pause. No one and nothing moved.  
  
The masamune seemed to move more quickly than lightning, cutting a shallow diagonal slice through his chest and slicing the rife in half at the middle. He fell backwards, and the girl walked off without a word.  
  
This day was just _not_ going his way.


	10. Strange Happenings

Seifer sat alone, staring at the new letter which had come. It was the same person--it was postmarked from Esthar, and unsigned. But this time, instead of random letters cut out and pasted together, it was a single small article. It was dated from near the end of the Ultimecia Campaign, and the last half was missing from a rather sloppy tear, but there was enough there to get the general idea. The last thing on the page was a handwritten question mark, and certain letters--random, apparently--had been underlined.  
  
**_ BALAMB (AP)_**_  
Word has arrived from_the Balamb  
courts that there is_to be no formal  
trial for one Seifer Almasy, formerly_  
enrolled in Garden's elite SeeD  
program. Many residents find this  
arrangement highly inappropriate;  
stating that, as provisional second-  
in-command of Galbadia during the  
recent Sorceress fiasco, he is one of the  
only available persons to stand trial for  
several counts of war crimes under the  
Galbadian_Sorceress regime. Many  
speculate_that there may be some form  
of outside pressure upon the courts to  
drop the charges, and the prevailing  
attitude is that this pressure comes fr_  
_ some active faction in Galba_  
_ bent on supporting t_  
_ government fi_  
_ Ultimec_  
_ rep_  
_ l  
_**?**  
  
And that was it. It was a painful reminder of certain circumstances, but--that seemed to be _all_ that it could be. It was just another, completely illogical message--this one, with a few little lines drawn in.  
  
On the back of the sheet was a coupon--nothing he had been meant to see, surely. There was nothing else in the envelope, and after reading through the clip for the fourth time he was still no closer to solving the mystery.  
  
On the fifth time through, he gave up. Either it was important, or it wasn't. And if it was important, no doubt it would reveal its importance in a less enigmatic fashion later.  
  


~  


  
Quistis huddled in the warmth of the blanket, trying to block out all memories of that day. Xu was right, fo course--she _did_ need a nap--but falling asleep wasn't coming easily. She tossed and turned, finally rising and moving to the door. Her hand hovered above the electronic lock for a moment as she tried to decide whether or not to go out, and she finally just slumped against it and closed her eyes. What was the point in going out? It wasn't as if there was any place she wanted to go.  
  
How long she was there, she didn't know. It was only when she caught herself yawning that she managed to drag herself back to bed.  
  
Cocooned in the warmth of the blanket, she finally fell asleep. For some reason, her dreams were full of wings.


	11. Disaster x4

Two pairs of feet pounded through the forest east of Balamb Garden, marking the path with shallow footprints. The continuous crash moving before them lured them onwards, leaving a trail of broken branches and crushed leaves. Only glimpses of brown flashed through the melee of twigs and foliage that separated the two parties, but it was enough to give a suggestion of something large.  
  
"Do you know where it's heading, SeeD?" yelled Sierra. Zell drew in a quick breath, trying to focus on not ramming into the greenery around him as he answered.  
  
"Sych Vale," he called, batting a branch away from his face.  
  
"Name everything unusual about the Vale. Now!"  
  
Zell thought for a moment. He hadn't exactly bothered to study up--a bad oversight, if he considered that he was supposed to convince Sierra that he was good Instructor material. "Fira draw point," he called. "Low monster concentration."  
  
"Area monsters?"  
  
"Caterchipillars, Bite Bugs."  
  
"Dangerous flora! Fauna!"  
  
"None."  
  
"Mission orders!"  
  
"Engage and defeat unidentified Guardian Force. Reports say GF will take a stand in the Sych Vale."  
  
"Why?"  
  
_That_ tripped him up. "Uh... why?"  
  
"Make an inference! It will make a stand in the Vale. Why? Interpret its tactics and use them against it!"  
  
Zell thought for a moment. The best answer he could come up with was _It likes it there_. "I don't know. Sir."  
  
"What do you know about the Vale, SeeD? Make the connection!"  
  
The gears in Zell's brain worked for a moment, distracting him as he vaulted over a felled and rotting tree. He landed awkwardly, recovering hastily and hoping that Sierra hadn't seen him stumble. Then, something clicked. "Oh! Fire elemental."  
  
"Orders?"  
  
"Junction your highest Fire magic to Element Defense. Ice to Element Attack."  
  
"Too slow."  
  
The thundering ahead of them peaked, then stopped. Zell's hands clenched as he redoubled his speed, clearing the last few meters between himself and the small clearing.  
  
Sierra produced a long warhammer from somewhere, pulling up short as she entered the glade. Her eyes skipped over the beast in front of them, appraising it. "I'm under your orders," she snapped at Zell. "What are we doing?"  
  
Zell glanced over the GF for himself. It was a huge bull, with an abundance of sheer muscle left about a foot of clearance between the thick keelbone and the ground. Pupilless yellow eyes stared at him as a heavy hoof furrowed the dirt, and steam billowed from the nostrils and rose from the hide. Zell really saw nothing to plan out. "Attack!"  
  
Sierra rolled her eyes back to her target, and charged at it. The bull reared, bringing its hooves down with all the force of a Quake attack Zell charged in from the side, scoring a quick succession of hits on its flank. It turned towards him, allowing Sierra time to swing the point of the warhammer into the muscle of the foreleg. It snorted, swinging its head to bring its horns into play. Sierra ducked and rolled, coming to her feet a few meters away.  
  
Zell scored three hits on its chin as it turned, but was caught offguard as it sidled and rammed its shoulder into his chest. He flew backwards, his flight being stopped abruptly by a nearby bush. Shaking his head to clear it, he saw the GF become engulfed in a pillar of lightning. It shook itself, then glanced between its opponents as if deciding who to attack.  
  
"Wha--hey!" Zell scrambled up, attracting the thing's attention. "Use Ice magic!"  
  
"That wasn't me, SeeD," Sierra called back, circling. "It cast that on itself."  
  
"But I thought it was a Fire elemental!"  
  
"You thought wrong, apparently."  
  
The bull's gaze shifted to Sierra. It turned, pointing muscled haunches toward Zell. "But you said--"  
  
"I told you to make a connection. I never said it'd be the right one."  
  
"So what element _is_ it?"  
  
"What makes you think I know?" The bull was still turning, keeping its eye on Sierra. It didn't seem too keen on making the next move.  
  
"But--"  
  
"Orders, SeeD?"  
  
Zell shook his head. "In three seconds, Scan it!"  
  
He rushed forward, spiked knuckles digging into the hindlegs of the creature. It wheeled and roared, charging at him with horns lowered. Zell threw himself out of the way, rolling to one side as it thundered past.  
  
"Oh, ho ho. You're not going to believe this."  
  
"What?" Zell yelled, scrambling to his feet just in time to be bowled over and nearly trampled by the bull. Throwing up his arms to shield his face, he tried to wriggle his way away from the thing.  
  
"Tetra Elemental," Sierra called gleefully. "Earth, Fire, Ice, Thunder. Aren't we lucky?"  
  
_Lucky?!_ Zell raised both hands, planting them on the bull's chest. "Tornado," he whispered, feelign the magic encircle his target and lift it high into the air. Pulling himself away from the spot, he shuddered as the bull's landing created a tremor that threw him off his feet.  
  
"Aero!" Sierra let loose a spell of her own, knocking the bull back. The yellow eyes blinked, then focused on Zell.  
  
Words rudely intruded upon his brain. **_You're next._**  
  
The bull splayed its front legs, quivering. The Fira draw point glowed suddenly, becoming visible even through the ambient light of the region. Zell had a bad feeling about this, for some reason.  
  
**_Tetra disaster!_**  
  
The glade erupted in magic. A pillar of ice coalesced in front of the bull, meeting with a long, continuous lightningstrike from the heavens. Earth jumped up around it, forming it into a column of muddy lightning.  
  
The bull surged forward, trapping the column between his horns and throwing it into the Fira point. The thing erupted in flames, beginning to topple. Zell glanced up, trying to make himself dodge the attack. The magic engulfed him as it fell, knocking him to the ground and knocking him out just for good measure.  
  
He didn't so much feel the Phoenix Down as recognize that he was awake again. The cool glow of a Cure spell surrounded him, and he attempted to get to his feet. The bull snorted loudly.  
  
"That was lucky, SeeD," Sierra called. "That could have killed you. Orders?"  
  
Zell shook his head, trying to regain some semblance of clear thought. "What GF do you have?"  
  
"Ramuh. Lightning Mid-Level."  
  
"No good," Zell said. "We'll--"  
  
The bull reared, bringing down its forelegs and causing a tremor again. It wheeled, taking off at a gallop and and knocking over three young trees before it dispersed and returned to wherever it was GFs went.  
  
Zell stared at the place it had been. "Does this mean... I failed?" he asked.  
  
Sierra shrugged, wiping her warhammer. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "That was unusual. I'll take it up with the Committee."  
  
"Did you _know _about that thing?"  
  
Sierra gave him a look that said he shouldn't ask questions. "Who cares?"  
  
Zell was about to respond that _he _did, but thought better of it. "What was with that Tetra Disaster thingy?"  
  
"Tetra Disaster?" Sierra shrugged. "Four elemental attacks at once. One of the most powerful GF attacks I've seen to date. Rank it up with Mega Flare and the big-leaguers, I'd advise."  
  
Zell grimaced. He would _not _want to go through that again. Turning, he began to make his way back towards Balamb Garden.  
  
He was stopped only a few steps into the woods by a pair of familiar yellow eyes, hanging in the air in front of him like the creation of some demented Cheshire Bull. They blinked, narrowed, and faded away. However, two words did stay long enough to drift into his mind.  
  
**_You're next._**


	12. A Fruitless Conversation

Rach rewound the tape and replayed it over the screen on the transport. "So," he said. "Er... who's going to be writing the report?"  
  
"Do we really _want_ to write a report for this one?" Irvine asked, wincing as his breath stretched the cut across his chest. "It's not exactly one of our shining moments."  
  
"It's SeeD protocol to complete a report for any mission," Squall growled at Irvine, face invisible behind the hand clamped to his forehead.  
  
"Yeah, but isn't it SeeD protocol to complete missions successfully, too?" Rach said.  
  
"Yeah," Selphie put in. "I mean, this mission was _really weird_."  
  
"Traditionally the task of writing the report falls either to the junior SeeD or the commanding officer on the mission," Squall said. He thought about that for a moment. _Me or Irvine...._ "...I'll write the report."  
  
"So, does this mean we just go back to Garden, or what?" Irvine asked. "Are we supposed to stay here and try to kill the girl anyway?"  
  
"I think the task is beyond our ability," Squall said darkly. Now, _that_ wasn't something you would want to hear from the group that killed Ultimecia.  
  
"If we can find her again I could snipe her," Irvine said. "I'm sure that she _can't_ outsmart a bullet."  
  
"Irvine, your rifle was sliced in half," Squall pointed out.  
  
"Oh. Yeah."  
  
"Anyway," Squall continued. "Poji was kind of noncommittal. He didn't want us to stay, but he didn't really want us to leave, either."  
  
"So...." Selphie started.  
  
"We contact Garden for instruction," Squall said.  
  
"You want to do that?" Rach asked, wincing.  
  
_Not really,_ Squall thought.  
  
"Hell. I'm not," Irvine said, shaking his head. "_I _sure as hell don't want to try to explain this to Xu."  
  
Squall felt a sudden pang of vindictiveness. _They sent me out here with this circus,_ he thought,_ and they can suffer for it._ "Selphie, you make the call."  
  
"Er... me?" Selphie asked meekly.  
  
"I have a headache."  
  
"Um... okay...."  
  
Selphie stood up and moved into the other room. Irvine and Rach exchanged glances.  
  
"Uh, Squall, man?" Rach asked.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"No, really, do you think--"  
  
"_Shut up._"  
  
"I think he wants you to shut up," Irvine pointed out.  
  
"_Man_...."  
  
There was silence for several minutes. The tape finished, and Rach rewound it again.  
  
"Just a bit of clarification," Rach said, starting up the tape again.  
  
"What?" Squall growled.  
  
"This _isn't_ the way your missions normally go, is it?"  
  
_Shut UP shut UP shut UP...._ "Would you like a negative commendation on your record, SeeD Nives?"  
  
"Oh, hey, _that's_ hardly fair--"  
  
"Be quiet."  
  
Rach shut up.  
  
"Uh, Squall?" came Selphie's voice from the next room.  
  
"_What_?"  
  
"I can't raise B-Garden," Selphie said. "It keeps giving me a message like the comm system is down."  
  
_Oh, to holy hell with it._ "Let's just go."  
  
"Okay!"  
  
The ship shuddered and took off almost immediately, cutting across the water and away from the Estharan shore.  
  
"ETA fifty-six hours," Selphie called.  
  
_I _NEVER_ want to hear the phrase "fifty-six hours" again,_ Squall thought, hoping that he had left enough Sleep spells for the return trip.


	13. Questions

Seifer sat at the table, thumbing through what seemed to be an entire _edition _of News Magazine devoted to exploring the atrocious crimes of the Third Sorceress War--better known now as The Ultimecia Campaign. There seemed to be a pattern--someone had gone through and systematically highlighted the names of the Galbadian officials who had been tried in any of the world courts in yellow, and those who had _not_ been tried in blue.  
  
So far, he had only run across one name in blue. His.  
  
Reading through the magazine, he frowned as he saw the records of what the Galbadian government had done under his command. These were the worst war crimes in _history_--which brought up a question. Why try the Generals, the Cabinet, the President's Aides--why try everyone involved right down to the commanders of the mission to take the Dollet Radio Tower--and forget the Sorceress's Knight, spearhead of the operation, former President Pro Tempore of Galbadia?  
  
There was something subtly wrong about this.  
  
Come to think of it--he had _never _been held to fault for _any_ of his actions. SeeD had never tried to extradite him, Galbadia had never offloaded its blame onto him, Esthar had never sent troops after him, goddamn it, even the guy who handled his request to rent a house had given him no more than an awkward glance! And yet, by all the accounts he had read, he _was_ being blamed for a good part of the Ultimecia fiasco.  
  
It was one of those times when two and two weren't _quite_ adding up to four. And he didn't like it at _all_.  
  
Grabbing his trenchcoat from its hanger on the wall, he stepped outside in search of a lawyer. He needed some parts of this thing cleared up--even if he had to empty his account to do it.  
  


~  


  
Nida jumped as a book landed lightly on the table in front of him, and looked up to see a very distraught Quistis sitting down across from him. He blinked a few times to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, then put down the report he was working on. "So...?" he asked.  
  
"What?" Quistis seemed a bit taken aback.  
  
"Nobody ever comes and sits with me when there are other empty tables available. It's kinda scary now that you're the first."  
  
Quistis glanced away. "Can I--can I ask you something?"  
  
Nida blinked. "Whoa. You're the first person who's ever asked me for advice, too."  
  
"Do you think I'm pathetic?" Quistis blurted. More blinks followed from Nida.  
  
"Maybe you need some more sleep," he said. "You don't sound too good."  
  
"I'm fine," Quistis said, blue-grey eyes boring into him like pneumatic drills. "_Do_ you?"  
  
Nida shook his head. "I don't even _know_ you," he said. "Remember me? I'm the guy who sits around and flies the Garden? The one no one ever notices? What makes you think that _I_ would form any opinions regarding other people?"  
  
"I thought--" Quistis trailed off. Nida sighed.  
  
"Look. If there's anything I can do to help, just ask. But honestly, I can't see why you'd be more pathetic than the next guy." He thought for a moment, then his face lit up with a grin as artificial as holiday lights. "Hey! If you find out that you're pathetic, you can come join me in my little den of iniquity! We can be pathetic _together_!"  
  
Quistis quietly picked up her book and exited the premises. Nida glanced after her, and shrugged.  
  
"Well, _I_ thought that it was a fair offer," he muttered to himself.  
  


~  


  
Quistis retreated into her room, locking the door behind her. It felt terrible, this not-knowing--the uncertainty that consumed her any time she saw someone casting her a glance in the halls. She had _tried_ to ignore it, like Xu said she should; but there was something inside that demanded a definitive answer. She had to know--yes, or no? Uncertainty wasn't acceptable.  
  
She couldn't go on like this.  
  
Once again, she sought refuge in the familiar warmth of the blankets. Turning off the lights and plunging the room into darkness, she shivered inside her sanctuary. The question danced round in her head, making her clutch the wrappings tighter around herself and squeeze her eyes shut so tightly that they hurt.  
  
_I can't go on like this...._  
  
A tear dropped into the blanket, and she drew herself into a tighter ball. A part of her argued that _it isn't that important--who cares what they think--_but she couldn't hear it over the part of her that begged for a resolution, any resolution, as long as it _wasn't true_.  
  
She wanted to cry herself to sleep, but sleep was a long time coming.  
  
_"Quistis, you can't possibly expect to be able to take Bendon Gansarro's word for anything of value! He's an emotional bully...."  
  
"...she's pretty enough, but... Hyne, she is so pathetic..."  
  
"...can't see why you'd be more pathetic than the next guy...."  
  
"...I don't date losers...."  
  
"...we can be pathetic together!"  
  
Yes.  
  
"...so pathetic...."  
  
No!  
  
Yes.  
  
No....  
  
....  
  
"...losers...."  
  
....  
  
"...be pathetic together!"  
  
...?  
  
...yes._  
  
She dissolved into tears.


	14. Siblings/Rivalries

Squall exited the debriefing feeling more than a little dazed. It hadn't been easy trying to explain what had happened to Cid--it seemed the Headmaster was still operating under the assumption that If Squall Can't Do It, No One Can--and it had taken a while to explain Squall's rationale for destroying his idyllic preconception. Then there had been that whole truck about whether or not Squall was acquainted enough with combat theory to recognize a real Jump attack if he saw one, and if he was _quite sure_ he had used the Lionheart attack--as if it was one of those things you could mistake for something else. All in all, it was one of those things that would usually send him to collapse on one of the benches in the Quad and fervently wish that the universe would leave him alone for a while.  
  
He collapsed on one of the benches in the Quad and fervently wished the universe would leave him alone for a while. The universe politely coughed and spit in his face.  
  
"Squall!"  
  
Squall looked up, seeing Zell barrelling towards him. He put on the most blank look he could come up with, hoping it might give Zell the clue that he had had a bad day and make him bug off. He should have anticipated that it wouldn't work.  
  
"Hey, man?" Zell asked. "Look, I got volunteered to show this new student around, but Sierra's after me to take some kind of Instructor Exam or something. Could you--"  
  
"Zell," Squall broke in, "I'm really not in the mood. Can't Quistis?"  
  
"I can't find her," Zell said. "And Selphie's on call for something else. And--"  
  
"Look!" Squall snapped. "I would rather _not _be--"  
  
The sound literally died in his throat, emitting a soft death whimper. The new student had come around the corner to talk to Zell, who was trying to introduce her. "Squall? This is Amei."  
  
Black hair. Brown eyes. A masamune clutched in one hand, and a _black _outfit cut in a style reminiscent of wings. A black scarf hanging limply across the shoulders, unused.  
  
"Amica...?"  
  
"No, Amei," Zell corrected, watching, a bit confused, as all color drained out of the senior SeeD's face. "Are you all right, man?"  
  
Squall felt like falling over backwards. His eyes locked with hers, searching for the glimmer of recognition. It wasn't apparent. "Did you come from Esthar?" he asked weakly.  
  
"Lower Esthar," Amei/Amica answered. "Why?"  
  
Squall jumped up, the gunblade leaping into his hand. "Zell!" he snapped, bringing it to bear on the new student. "Get the Faculty!"  
  
"Hey, whoa!" Zell jumped back as Squall threatened Amei, startled. "Hey! Th--this is one of our cadets, man! What are you doing?"  
  
"I just got hired to kill her!" Squall objected. "She ruined our mission!"  
  
"Okay, I guess you're a little stressed out," Zell said, making various placating gestures. "I'll see if I can find someone else to show her around."  
  
"Get the Faculty," Squall growled. The new student only seemed a bit startled--there was nothing in her manner to tell what she thought of all this.  
  
Zell blinked. "Uh, man? If I get the Faculty, I'm gonna tell them you went wacky."  
  
Squall ignored him. "You're Amica," he growled at the student. "You're wanted on seven counts of murder in Esthar."  
  
"Squall, man, you're making a scene," Zell hissed. A small crowd was beginning to gather, all of them whispering to each other.  
  
Amica/Amei glanced at Zell, then back at Squall. "Do you speak Estharre?" she asked, confused. Maybe. She could be _feigning_ confusion, she could be--  
  
"No," Squall said, unaware of what that information could _possibly_ do to clear up the situation.  
  
"Then why are you calling me 'Amica?'"  
  
"Because that's what you introduced yourself as when you tried to kill me," Squall responded.  
  
"I just got here," Amei responded.  
  
"In _Esthar_," Squall emphasized.  
  
"How would I try to kill you in Esthar?" Amica asked.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey!" An irritated voice rang down from the higher level of the Quad, and Squall glanced up momentarily to see Nida coming down. "What's going on here?"  
  
"Squall is convinced that our new recruit is trying to kill him," Zell called.  
  
Nida scanned the small assembly, and his face lit up. "Amei?"  
  
Amei turned, glancing up at him. "Nida!" she exclaimed, and took a step towards him. A warning from Squall brought her up short.  
  
"Squall, do you feel like explaining why you're holding my sister at swordpoint?" Nida asked. Squall came perilously close to choking.  
  
"...sister...?"  
  
"Yeah," Nida said. "...wait, you _didn't_ know I had a family? Geez. I really shouldn't be surprised about that."  
  
"Your _sister_ is on the Estharan Most Wanted list," Squall informed him coldly. "I was dispatched on a mission to assassinate her. There was a fight, and she won. Get the records from Cid if you want--we have it on _tape_."  
  
Nida looked skeptical. "Squall, my sister's never taken out anything more dangerous than a Bite Bug. Much as I appreciate your attempt to be humble, I really don't think you should be going over the top like this."  
  
"She knows the Jump technique," Squall said. "It hasn't been taught since the fall of the Centran empire."  
  
"You don't get out much, do you?" Nida shook his head. "It's a family trademark. Everyone in my family knows it. We never _use_ it, though--it's _way_ too impractical." He thought for a moment. "Wait, how did you know she knew that?"  
  
"She almost _killed_ me with it."  
  
"Squall, do you _really_ want me to have Kadowaki give you a brain exam?" Nida was sounding less amused now. "I'd really appreciate it if you stopped threatening my little sister."  
  
"She's a _criminal_," Squall protested. _What part of _criminal_ don't you understand?_  
  
"Yeah, the funny thing about her being a criminal is that Esthar would have _contacted _me if they believed she was. Okay? _Okay_! _Put away the gunblade_ before I have one of the Faculty write you up for disorderly conduct."  
  
The logic center of Squall's brain grimly informed him that it was taking off to look for a noose. Against his better judgment, he put the gunblade away. "I'm taking this up with the Headmaster," he informed Nida.  
  
"Go ahead." Nida made a dismissive gesture. "You're going to sound _really_ stupid, though. Amei, c'mere. _I'll _show you around this place."  
  
Amei slipped away, and Zell crossed his arms. Squall glanced at the watching crowd, glaring at them until they dispersed. Without waiting to see what Zell was going to say, he hurried off to see the Headmaster.  



	15. Saviours

Quistis had run into Squall on her way back from the Infirmary--literally. He hadn't even acknowledged her as he stormed off to whatever more important matters he had to attend to. It was wearing on her--she had talked to Kadowaki, who had been supportive and understanding and compassionate--but all of those things seemed to drip away as soon as she left the older woman's presence. What good was having a few isolated friends on your side when the rest of the _world_ was against you?  
  
She hadn't been sleeping well, lately--nightmares haunted her, the kind that had no real object to fear, nothing but that godawful _sensation_.... Those. She continuously felt tired, weak--futile, perhaps, would be a better word for it. And then there were the murmurs; faint, low, indecipherable, they might as well have been the last remnants of her self-respect, battered and abused, sneaking away to leave her for someone with more... _merit_.  
  
She was reminded harshly of the Tomb of the Unknown King--too many places to turn, all of them false; with every corner a blind one and every step leading deeper into the darkness, monsters and traps around every bend, no hope, and no way out. With the analogy came fear--the impulse to run, run somewhere, to hide, hide from herself, hide from the world--but there was nowhere she could turn, nowhere that could offer her respite.  
  
....  
  
....  
  
...was there?  
  
As if catching herself before falling into a trap, she recoiled form the thought. A small cry escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, trying to banish the unpleasant notion. Her heart raced in an instinctive bid to protect herself, and she wrapped her arms around her torso as if to keep herself from coming undone. _that_ wasn't a recourse. _That_ wasn't the option she had been waiting for. Not that. Not that.  
  
Suddenly, she felt cold. Some god, some malicious spirit had offered the gift to her, and she dared not take it? Was she just too afraid to recognize a blessing when she saw one?  
  
She was light-headed. Yes, she was afraid--too afraid. This wasn't an answer.  
  
It was the _only_ answer.  
  
By casting three Reflects around the room and angling them properly, one could cast a Tripled spell onto the first Reflect and be finished with the third cast before the first spell made it back to them. An Instructor had demonstrated it to a class once--as a point of interest, a meaningless bit of trivia, not something one would be expected to _use_ in their lifetime.  
  
Trembling, Quistis drew a Triple from her reserves and cast it. Three Reflects later, she stepped into the center of the triangle.  
  
_Time to leave it all behind._  
  
She was trembling in earnest now, and it seemed like the room had never been this cold. A sob escaped before she had time to check it in, and her hand clamped over her mouth. She turned toward the first Reflect.  
  
"...Quistis?"  
  
There was someone outside the door. Quistis spun around, startled and panicked. They were going to come in, they would find her--find _this_-- they would _know_--  
  
Too late! Someone knew, someone was here, with the incriminating evidence all set up and everything--now there was nothing to do except _cast_....  
  
A knock. No more time.  
  
_Cast it.  
  
_Spinning, Quistis focused all her energy through the Triple. The spells leapt out of her eagerly--too eagerly.  
  
Death.  
  
_Death.  
  
**Death.**_****  
  
The sudden slash of the Reaper's scythe didn't allow her tie to scream in pain. She was falling now--another slash, another pain. Why could she still think? One cast meant unconciousness, a second meant coma, the third--_more pain!_ Was she still falling?  
  
There was an uproar outside the door--too late to do any good. Too late for everything.  
  
Arms. Arms caught her, pulling her close. Was _this_ the afterlife? She ached, but in a moment the ache was dulled by the flow of some merciful magic--she was held against the unseen form, cradled in the embrace. What felt like claws ran gently through her hair.  
  
"No. Please, no."  
  
The voice--soft, powerful, surreal. Compassionate. Knowing. _Respectful_. Who... could this _be_?  
  
"The ending of a life so fine would be a waste. Please... do not seek yourself ill."  
  
Grey-blue eyes opened, trying to behold her rescuer where there was only shadows and darkness. The claws ran gently through er hair again, brushing off a stray lock that had fallen across her cheek.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Eyes searching through darkness met eyes. Suddenly, she knew who this was. A frightening revelation, for sure--terrifying, unexpected--  
  
--wonderful.  
  
"Preserve yourself," came the whispered words. "I must hide. But preserve yourself. I will return to you, my beautiful one... please, we can be together forever...."  
  
Arms laid her gently on the ground, and her saviour disappeared from her view. She felt elated, blessed--  
  
_"Rest now."_  
  
She clung to the words as they faded away.  
  


~  


  
The noise from the other side of the door stopped her initially. It sounded as if someone had just cast _Triple_--but Selphie knew that that couldn't be the case. Casting inside Garden was prohibited unless it was in one of the classrooms or the Training Center, and this was _Quistis's_ room, too! why would the rule-abiding ex-instructor do anything contrary to regulations?  
  
Then came the sound of the three Reflects, and Selphie jumped. It _was_ magic? Why?  
  
Curious now, Selphie pressed her ear to the door--in time to hear a short sob. Alarmed and concerned, she tried to open the door. It wouldn't budge. "Quistis?" she called, wondering what was wrong.  
  
There was no reply, and the was about to call again when there was the sound of another three spells being cast. This time, there was _no_ doubt as to what they could be, nor what happeed to them as they were cast.  
  
Death!Death!(_Reflect reflect_)Death!_(Reflect reflect reflect)_hit..._(reflect reflect)_hit..._(reflect reflect)_hit!  
  
Shock drove her straight into the door, pounding at it and screaming. "Quistis! _Quistis!_"  
  
No answer. Nothing and no one opened the door, there was silence from within the dormitory. With a few last pounds she slid to the ground, fear and shock misting her eyes with tears.  
  
Before she could register what was happening someone was at her side. "What's going on? what happened?" Squall demanded, no doubt unused to seeing her ever lose her joyful demeanor. Selphie blurted out what she could--coherency wasn't her strongest point right at the moment--and Squall pushed her aside. Using one of the override codes he had been issued, he unlocked the electronic mechanism holding the door shut. Trying to open it, he was met with the same resistance selphie had. The door had the manual lock shut, too--it would take a skeleton key to open _that_, one that Squall didn't generally carry around on his person.  
  
Jaw working, Squall tried ramming his shoulder into the door. It shook by the slightest margin, but held. Selphie's tears redoubled, and she stared frantically at the door.  
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
Another person had arrived at the scene--a new student, by appearances, still in their civilian garb. Squall turned to look at her, hesitating for a moment for some reason. Stepping away, he pointed to the source of the distress. "We need to get through that door," he explained tersely.  
  
The cadet turned to face the door, appraising it. "...stand back," she said, placing a hand on the long blade by her side. Selphie scrambled away as the girl closed her eyes, gripping the hilt of the sword tightly.  
  
"..._KE!_"  
  
With a loud exclamation, the girl unsheathed the blase and struck upwards at the same time. A diagonal gouge split the door, and it caved inwards. Within another moment Squall had barreled through, and Selphie had followed.  
  
"_Quisty!"_  
  
Selphie darted over to her fallen companion, kneeling by her side. The ex-Instructor turned her head weakly to give the SeeD a slight smile--a smile of triumph, more than anything else. Squall had turned to the door with the order "Amica! Get the nurse--"  
  
--but their unexpected benefactor had disappeared.


	16. Investigations

Kadowaki wiped her hands on her coat as she leaned back, shaking her head. Glancing up at Xu, who was stiitng tensely on the edge of one of the beds, she repeated the gesture. "I can't understand it," she said.  
  
"What?" Xu asked, concern evident on her face. Squall, sitting on a stool nearby, also glanced up--although his face was a good deal less expressive.  
  
"The tests I ran," Kadowaki explained. "You said that she cast a Triple, three Reflects, and three Death spells, correct?"  
  
"As far as we can tell," Squall responded.  
  
"And no Guardian Forces?"  
  
"There was no evidence of it."  
  
Kadowaki sighed. "Usually, paramagic dampens certain parts of the nervous and hormonal systems," she said. "_Especially_ a spell like Death. Summoning a GF can throw both into overdrive--although by the time you're able to successfully summon a high-level GF your body's usually developed a tolerance to the effects. In the tests I ran, though, there were unusually high amounts of certain chemicals in her body. Adrenaline, for one."  
  
Xu's face softened, and her voice dropped. "It's no wonder she was scared, poor thing--"  
  
"That's not it," Kadowaki said. "It wasn't just adrenaline. And I said unusually high--perhaps the word I was looking for was _drastically _high. It's the endorphins in particular--they're equivalent to the sort of thing you might find if a beginning SeeD summoned a fully-Boosted Eden. It's not right."  
  
Xu thought for a moment. "What does that mean?" she asked.  
  
"I can't make heads or tails of it," Kadowaki said. "But it's not natural. It's as if she got an actual euphoric rush out of trying to kill herself."  
  
"She wasn't taking anything?"  
  
"Nothing. Tests came back conclusive on that one."  
  
Xu shook her head. "I can see what you mean. It doesn't seem like it makes much sense. Is there anything I can do?"  
  
Kadowaki considered for a moment. "Just be on call. She'll need someone familiar when she wakes up."  
  
Xu stood smoothly, nodding. It was clear that she wasn't as calm as the tranquil appearance she put across. "I'll stop by from time to time, too," she said. "Please, call me immediately if you find anything."  
  
Kadowaki forced a smile. "I'm sure everything will be alright," she said. Xu bowed slightly and walked out of the room.  
  
Squall fidgeted in his seat for a moment, finally looking up. "...Doctor," he asked hesitantly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Is there any way someone could get enough strength in their upper body alone to cut through an adamantine-alloy door in one swing?" Squall asked.  
  
Kadowaki scrutinized him for a moment, noting the troubled look on the SeeD's face. "I don't know," she said. "I suppose that it would depend on what kind of alloy, and what kind of sword. It seems like it would be difficult, though. Why?"  
  
Squall shook his head. "When Selphie... found her, we couldn't get through the door. A student came by, and cut through the door in one strike. She disappeared just afterward."  
  
Kadowaki shrugged. "I have no idea," she said. "My only guess is that it would take quite a bit of training."  
  
Squall didn't look satisfied, but he stood up anyway. "Thanks," he said, moving for the door."  
  
"Squall?" Kadowaki's voice stopped him. "You'll be on call too, right? If we need you?"  
  
She could practically see him wincing away from the subject. "...sure," he said, wasting no time in disappearing out the door.  
  


~  


  
"_What_?"  
  
The Records Manger sighed. "You've been pardoned," he repeated. "Balamb issued a pardon for you two days after the SeeD force returned from the campaign. No one can legally press charges."  
  
Seifer shook his head in disbelief. "Why?" he asked. "Are there any records on that?"  
  
The man shrugged. "The government didn't release a statement. I can't answer that."  
  
"Can you refer us to someone who does know?" Seifer's lawyer interjected smoothly. "Is there anyone in the government who might be willing to see us?"  
  
"Don't ask me. I don't know how things are worked out over there, I just manage the records. You could try, but they usually aren't too receptive."  
  
Seifer's lawyer stood up, and Seifer followed suit. "Thank you," she said, motioning Seifer out the door. "You've been very helpful."  
  
The Records Manager grunted and went back to his work. Seifer and his lawyer stepped outside, and the lawyer crossed her arms. "Well," she said. "Do you want to look into the government?"  
  
Seifer considered for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "I want to figure out what's going on in the other countries, too."  
  
The lawyer nodded. "It'll be quite a bit of work," she warned.  
  
"I don't care!" Seifer snapped. "I just want to know what's going on."  
  
The lawyer shrugged. "If that's what you want, Mr. Almasy," she responded. "Let's get to it."


	17. Threats

A crash in the jungle behind him made him turn around, and Zell jumped as he saw the apparition coming _through _the metal doors that blocked off the Training Center from the entrance area. Baleful yellow eyes were fixed on him, and each step the bull took impressed a lasting hoofprint into the ground. It didn't look happy.  
  
Zell backed away, rubbing his injured arm. He had been on the way to the Infirmary--having a GF bearing down on him looking for revenge wasn't something he had anticipated when he had neglected to use up that last Curaga. The bull stopped a few paces in front of him, blinking slowly.  
  
**_Tetra disaster!_**  
  
"Whoa!" Zell jumped, turning and sprinting out of the door rather than staying to take a stand. The bull aborted its attack and thundered after him, overtaking him in the hall and using its bulk to block the short way to the Infirmary. Passing students and Faculty gaped--Zell just skidded to a halt and thought _Crap_.  
  
**_You're next._**  
  
Zell turned on his heel and ran, and everyone in the hall got out of his way. Whether that was because he was obviously not going to stop or because the massive GF behind him wasn't going to either wasn't apparent.  
  
**_Tetra disaster!_**  
  
Zell dove down a spur hallway as the elemental attack swept through the air behind him, and scrambled the rest of the way down the hallway. Thunder followed him.  
  
Ramming into a person as he rounded the corner into the dormitory halls, he sent both of them tumbling to the ground. Blinking, he latched onto the person's shirt front immediately.  
  
"Squall!" he hissed. "You've gotta help me! There's this crazy GF thing following me--"  
  
Squall blinked at him, disengaging his hands and standing up. "What?" he asked.  
  
"_There's a GF trying to kill me!_" Zell screamed. "It chased me from the Training Center, and it's coming after me!"  
  
Squall looked down the hall. He moved over, and looked down toward the main Garden hallway ring. He turned to look at Zell again. He didn't say a word.  
  
"I'm not kidding!" Zell insisted. "You have to help me! Tell someone! Get the Faculty!"  
  
"Uh, Zell?" Squall's voice was so full of irony it was a wonder he managed to fit any words in beside it. "If I get the faculty, I'm going to tell them _you_ went wacky."  
  
Zell blinked. "Arrgh!" He leapt to his feet, shaking his fist. "If I get killed by that thing, it's going to be all your fault!"  
  
Squall turned away and started heading back to his dorm. Zell fumed for a moment.  
  
**_You're next._**  
  
Without a second thought, he resumed his mad dash down the hall to his room, where he locked the door and quietly dived under the bed.  
  


~  


  
A shadowy figure crept through the dark alleyway, coming up on the house he was sure he wanted. In one hand was gripped a knife; in the other, he held a clipping from the newspaper obituaries. He had selected it carefully, cut it out lovingly. It had to be exactly the right one, and he had been lucky to find one with accurate information so easily. It read  
  
_Jaimes Nokhan  
Died 2/23 in sleep, alone  
No survivors  
No memorial scheduled_  
  
Stopping next to the door he wanted, the man quietly pulled a fine-tip pen and a small bottle of white editing paint out of his pocket. Within a few moments, he had edited it to his satisfaction. Leaning back, he looked at the work critically.  
  
**Seifer Almasy**_  
Died _**here**_ in sleep, alone  
No survivors  
No memorial_  
  
Blowing on it gently to dry it, he shifted the grip of the knife in his hand. Moving to the door, he deftly cut the soft metal of the latch in two with the strong blade, and pushed the door open. The hinges were well-kept, and they didn't creak. With the stealth of a cat, he moved into the main room.  
  
A piece of paper caught his eye, lying open on an otherwise bare table. Moving over to it, he placed the edited obituary next to it and picked it up.  
  
_Fuj, Raij--  
Went to Galbadia. Have to figure some stuff out. Sorry for the late notice. See you in about a three days, if I don't go to Dollet first.  
--Seifer_  
  
His eyes narrowing, the man slammed the blade into the table point-first. A low growl escaped from his throat, and he stared around the room. The little weasel--he had gotten away! And after so much _work_ put into him, too--  
  
Pulling out the pen and paint, he made a quick adjustment to the obituary. Pinning it and the departure letter to the table with the blade, he snuck quietly out of the room.  
  
When Fujin came in at midnight, she found the letter from Seifer, a knife, and a tiny scrap of newpaper. Picking up the news, she read it critically.  
  
**Seifer Almasy will**_  
Die_**here** _in sleep, alone  
No survivors  
No memorial_** needed**


	18. Duel

Amei knelt to the ground in the Training Center, examining the hoofprint carefully. From what she understood, there shouldn't be any monsters in this area--certainly none that could leave a track like this. So, that meant that--  
  
A noise behind her interrupted her musing, and she glanced over her shoulder. She had to stifle a groan when she saw who it was.  
  
"Draw," SeeD Leonhart said coldly.  
  
"Excuse me?" Amei said politely.  
  
"I want a rematch. Draw."  
  
Amei shook her head. "I do not have the _faintest_ idea what you're talking about," she said.  
  
"I know you're Amica," Squall said. "That stunt at Quistis's dorm proved it. If you're Amica, you're the one who fought me at Centra. That means that you know techniques that I've _never _seen or even _heard_ of before. I want a rematch. Draw."  
  
Amei glanced at the door, wondering if she was going to get out of this one. "If it's all right with you, sir, I'd rather not."  
  
"_Draw_." His voice left no doubt as to what sort of answer he simply would _not_ accept.  
  
A pair of students emerged from one of the training center doors, and stopped upon seeing the two. With a brief glance at each other, them backed up a bit and stayed to watch.  
  
"If I duel you, will you leave me alone?" she asked.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
Amei shook her head. "You're hopeless, did you know that?" she asked.  
  
"I've been told," Squall said.  
  
"Fine. Whatever." Amei rolled her eyes. Drawing the masamune from her side, she raised it into a defensive posture. "Go easy, okay?"  
  
"......." Squall drew his gunblade. "Ready?"  
  
Amei's eyes locked on him. "When you are."  
  
Squall charged, using a rapid spincut attack that Amei only barely ducked. She counterattacked, fencing in under his guard and scoring a light tap along his ribs. He parried, making a responding tap to her shoulder as she ducked again, and then twisted the sword in his grip so that it hummed through the air just in front of her neck. She backpedaled out of range, bringing the sword out in front of herself and using its length to fend him off.  
  
_She's got talent,_ Squall recognized, retreating from strike range and trying to decide how to get around her guard, _but she's nowhere near as good as she was in Centra. ...dammit, this isn't something you can just fake! I should be able to _tell_ if she's holding back!_  
  
They circled each other for a moment, the natural comparison being that to a pair of cats fighting. Dashing forward, Squall feinted to her right, then pulled back and made a quick strike to her left. She overextended as she moved to parry the feint, and he scored a hit on her side. She responded with a sweeping cut low to the ground, which he jumped; sending him offbalance as she gave a quick thrust toward his exposed side. He barely managed to parry, sliding the gunblade down the length of the masamune and closing the distance between them.  
  
She reversed the direction of her sword, punching forward and bashing him on the chin with the hilt. Taken by surprise, he failed to follow as she retreated rapidly, widening the distance and putting herself into a place where she could use the superior length of the masamune to her advantage. She struck, and Squall spun to one side to avoid it. Swinging with all the force he could muster, he struck the blade from the side and sent it spinning out of her grasp. A moment later, she had frozen with the point of the gunblade at her throat.  
  
"Yield," she said, raising her hands slowly. "...wow. You're really good."  
  
Squall blinked. Now, _that_ wasn't right, he wasn't supposed to have _won_ that....  
  
"Can I be excused now, sir?" Amei asked.  
  
"Squall blinked again, then resheathed his gunblade. "...sure," he said, more than a bit confused. "...dismissed."  
  
Amei nodded, retrieved her masamune, and exited the Training Center. Squall glanced around a few times, halfheartedly glared at the two students who were still watching him, and then exited as well.


	19. Grin 'n' Bear It

_The dreams were full of wings. Black wings. Stretching against the pull of gravity and the force of wind, straining upward, ever upward, until air was too thin to support them; magic came into play here, lifting her beyond the outermost reaches of the atmosphere--time had passed, so much time in her exodus from the world, but it didn't matter, because she wasn't at all tired and they had all the time in the universe...._  
  


~  


  
Upon waking, she knew immediately where she was, and why she was there. There was no momentary confusion, no dull surprise. The information was simply waiting in the forefront of her mind as she returned to consciousness.  
  
Thus, it came as no surprise whatsoever when Kadowaki promptly moved over to check on her.  
  
What could not be said, however, was that Kadowaki was not surprised to see the smile of pure, unadulterated elation on Quistis's face.  
  
Before Kadowaki could say anything, Quistis had sat up and given her a reassuring smile. "I feel so wonderful!" she burst out. "Doctor, I know how this must sound, but--I feel better than I ever have in my life!"  
  
"I see," Kadowaki said carefully, probably wishing that she had pressed Cid into having a trained psychiatrist hired. "Would you like to talk about what's going on?"  
  
Quistis was beaming in a way normally reserved for people like Selphie. "I--oh, I don't know. It's all so confusing. But--he _loves_ me. I know it!"  
  
_Uh, oh._ Kadowaki hoped fervently that this wasn't some sort of misconception that would wind up hurting Quistis more in the end. "Who is 'he?'" she asked.  
  
Quistis's demeanor immediately changed. She became a bit uncertain, a bit nervous, perhaps. "I don't know if I can tell you," she said. "He might not want that."  
  
"Quistis," Kadowaki began.  
  
"I know what you're going to say," Quistis said, narrowing her eyes at the doctor. "It's not like that at _all_. He _saved_ me. And in his position, I'm not sure I would want you to know who I was, either."  
  
Kadowaki didn't look at all convinced.  
  
Quistis stood. "I would like to leave now," she said gravely. "And I don't think you should like to stop me."  
  
Kadowaki frowned. "Truth be told, Quistis, I'm quite concerned about the way you've been acting--"  
  
Quistis's face softened. "I understand that," she said. "But I really do feel fine now. You have my word on it."  
  
Kadowaki still looked skeptical. Quistis sighed.  
  
"I promise," she said. "If anything is bothering me at all, I'll come and speak with you. Anything at all."  
  
Kadowaki shook her head a bit in defeat. "Fine," she said. "But I want you to come check in here tonight, regardless of how you're feeling. All right?"  
  
"All right," Quistis agreed. "I will. But you don't need to worry so much, doctor. He'll take care of me."  
  
Quistis quickly made her way out of the infirmary, not allowing Kadowaki the time to say that that was, in part, what she _was_ afraid of. The doctor sighed. She hated not knowing what was going on, what she should be able to do.  
  
After a moment, she went to sit at her computer terminal and tried to make herself useful. Maybe she could brush up on her knowledge of emotional disorders before Quistis came in that night.


	20. Friendly Chats

"Squall."  
  
Squall quickly decided that this particular Quad bench had to be cursed, as he heard his name being called from the top of the stair. Glancing up, he scowled at Nida as the other SeeD came down toward him.  
  
"What is it?" he growled, not being much in the mood for any sort of conversation.  
  
Nida came up in front of him, crossing his arms and glowering. "I'm only going to say this once," he said. "_Stop picking on my little sister._"  
  
Squall glowered for a moment, about to say something, when Nida held up a hand.  
  
"I don't care what you have to say; I don't care what delusion you've come up with to justify it all. I _don't want to hear it._ You're a SeeD, and a responsible one, at that--you should be able to see when you're acting inappropriately. Stop it."  
  
Squall shook his head. "What's going on here?" he demanded. "Why are you protecting her?"  
  
Nida stared. "Oh, _Hyne_," he swore. "Thank god you never had a family. She's my sister, Squall, do I have to spell it out for you?"  
  
"If I ordered you to tell me what was going on--"  
  
"You can't," Nida interrupted. "Not only do you have no legal or provable circumstantial reason to, but I outrank you."  
  
_...what?_ "I'm SeeD rank A," Squall stated.  
  
Nida fished in his pocket for a moment, and withdrew his SeeD ID card. Handing it to Squall, he smirked slightly as Squall took it and read the information present on it.  
  
**NIDA {NO LAST NAME}  
CLASS OF 4084  
SEED RANK A++**  
  
"......."  
  
"If you're like most people, the first question you'll have is 'What the hell,' modified for the level of civility you want to convey. Let's just say that it was a technicality that Cid let slip, and leave it at that. At the moment, I am the single highest-ranking SeeD in Garden. Technically, I could be ordering _you_ around...." Nida paused to smile sardonically. "But I won't."  
  
"......."  
  
"Still, if you keep this witch hunt up, I _will_ start to be tempted to use that rank of mine. Okay? Don't make me throw my weight around. Things will start getting ugly."  
  
"............."  
  
"Can I have my ID back? I swear that however long you look you won't find evidence of forgery. Check with Cid or Xu directly if you don't believe me."  
  
Squall silently handed back the ID, sending a cold glare along with it. Standing and turning, he made his way out of the Quad and away to brood. Nida quietly watched him go.  
  
~  
  
With a last glance at the papers she held in hand, Xu delivered a few professional knocks to the door in front of her. "Zell?" she called. "Are you in there?"  
  
There was a slight pause. "Xu?" an unusually muffled and deflated voice called back.  
  
"Yes," Xu said, wondering for a moment what was going on. "I have the results from your preliminary Instructor Exams here. Would you like to see them?"  
  
There was another pause. "Are you alone?"  
  
Now, _that_ certainly wasn't what she had expected to hear. "Excuse me?"  
  
"There's not a--a GF out there, is there?"  
  
Xu glanced around the halls, unsure of what he meant. "I have my GFs junctioned, if--"  
  
"No," Zell corrected. "Is there a really big Tetra-Elemental bull out there?"  
  
Xu had to blink several times before _that_ registered. "No," she replied. "There's no one out here except myself."  
  
There was a slight rustle from beyond the door, then it slid open to reveal a rather disheveled and distinctly wary Zell. His eyes glanced from side to side, scanning the hall, before he stepped back to invite her in. Xu stepped into the room, quite confused.  
  
"So, what did I get?"  
  
"Ah," Xu began. "Well, the preliminary tests suggest that you should take some more SeeD classes before you really work toward getting an Instructor position. However, if you _do_ want to continue with Instructor training, they have a few areas they suggest you'd be qualified for."  
  
"Yeah?" Zell brightened. "What?"  
  
Xu held out the papers, and Zell took them eagerly. Flipping through, he finally found the list of bolded courses.  
  
"...Remedial Standard English and Basic Paramagic?"  
  
"There is an Instructing course offered for SeeDs next class rotation," Xu informed him helpfully.  
  
"Uh, Xu?" Zell asked, still staring at the papers. "Is there any way I could, uh... retake the tests?"  
  
Xu frowned. "I'm not sure," she said. "You'll have to check with our Records Manager, Mr. Daneken. He'll be happy to see what forms you need to apply for a retest."  
  
"...thanks," Zell said. "I think I'll go see him."  
  
"He's in the second-floor office," Xu supplied helpfully.  
  
"Right-o!" Zell said cheerily. "Thanks!"  
  
Zell sprinted down the hall, leaving Xu to exit her room and head to whatever her next task was. Which, she decided after a moment of pause, was going to be heading to the library to see if she could find any records of a tetra-elemental bull....


	21. Still Investigating

"...and there you have it," the Anarchist Monthly editor said, leaning forward earnestly. He was about thirty-five, with glasses, slicked brown hair and a frighteningly earnest look to him. "As soon as the news came through of the SeeD mission success, the Government issued a warrant for you. Two days later they rescinded it, and sent officials over to claim all of the records that had anything to do with the warrant. Since then nothing's been going in or coming out of the government concerning you; and at the moment, all other trials being completed, it looks like they're going to play the entire thing as quietly as they can until people forget it all."  
  
Seifer frowned. "So they let me go on purpose, then?" he asked.  
  
The man nodded. "That's just the tip of it, too," he noted with the air of one about to give away a vast and terrible secret. "They're going through the logs, the records, everything, and erasing your name. Papers have stopped listing you, stopped printing opinion columns about you--and you can pretty much bet that Culper has a hand in _that_ one."  
  
"Culper?"  
  
"Spokesperson for the Presidential Cabinet," the man explained. "No one talks about it, but he has the entire media under his thumb." Nudging his glasses back up on his nose, the man nodded gravely. "They're trying to deny that you ever existed," he explained. "But not deny it outright--no, that wouldn't work, and it's not their style. They're just trying to make everyone _forget_ that you existed."  
  
Seifer's lawyer took the opportunity to step back into the room, with a look of shielded disdain for the man, his style, and his tone. "Are we done here, Mr. Almasy?" she asked.  
  
Seifer glanced at the man, who leaned back for the first time in hours. "I've told all I know," he said solemnly. "It was nice talking with you, man, real nice. Hey, ah--you don't mind if I quote you in a few articles?"  
  
Seifer shrugged. "Go ahead," he said.  
  
"Oh, thanks, thanks," the man said, fishing something out of his shirt pocket and hastily scribbling something on the back. "Man, here's my card; I'd be happy to do business again knight, no knight, whatever. And here--" he finished writing and waved the card at Seifer, who took it gingerly, "--here's the name and contact information for Eia Wenns--she's a friend of mine; tell her that I sent you. You were having trouble getting a chance to speak with those bureaucratic pigs, right? Of course you were--everyone does; that's why they come to _me_ for the low-down. But, yeah, she'll get a meeting for you. Trust me. She's a miracleworker."  
  
Seifer glanced at the information, nodding. "Thanks," he said.  
  
The editor gave him a broad wink over the rims of his glasses before pushing them up again. Then he went back to his stacks of paper, leaving Seifer and his lawyer to escort themselves out.  
  
"Well?" his lawyer asked, glad to be out of the office and all of its assorted contraband. Seifer handed her the card, and she read over it. "...I'm sorry, Mr. Almasy," she began, "but I really can't endorse anyone whose contact information includes directions to use they alley door and a specific knock pattern. I have to admit that I was skeptical enough about this meeting as it was, but if you're going to continue in these quasilegal channels--"  
  
"Right," Seifer said, waving her off. "How much do I owe you?"  
  
His lawyer looked shocked. "I would _highly_ recommend that you stick to the legal channels which I can--"  
  
Seifer silenced her with one of his patented glares. "Something tells me I'll be fine," he said, with the sort of ironic angle to his words that reminded her exactly who she was talking to and what he had already done. "How much does it come to?"  
  
The lawyer brushed off her jacket deliberately, making a small _hmph_ noise. "The bill will be sent to your place of residence," she informed him curtly. "If you run into any problems with the law on your madcap escapade, please don't hesitate to call."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind," Seifer said, and started to ignore her. After a moment, she got the hint and left.  
  
Seifer turned all of his attention to the card. The address it gave was in Dollet--one of the cheaper housing districts about as far from the waterfront as one could get and still be counted inside the city limits. Given a full range of options (i.e. including more than bureaucrats and underground radicals) it would have been one of the last places he would have gone; however, lacking that range of options, it would have to do.  
  
Now all he needed was a train ticket to Dollet....


End file.
